THE MERMEN'S CAPTIVE
Dumped at the altar by Douchebag Derrick, I decided my best course of action was to go on the Hornbag Honeymoon cruise of a lifetime - alone.
What the hell was I thinking?
And just like any self-respecting woman, I got so drunk I fell over the safety rail and into the warm waters of the Pacific. Way to go Arielle.
Although certain death was imminent, I was rescued not only by one sexy-as-sin powerful merr-king. His brothers also had their say in what they wanted to do to me. Then colour me pink and call me surprised when they said I was their Fated Mate and that I was going to save their kingdom. Through bonding sex.
That’s when I knew this was one big dream and it was my brain easing my way to the afterlife fuelled by my biggest secret sexual fantasy. Way to go brain.
But when I was abducted by a giant carnivorous octopus who digested people over the better part of a week, who was the pet of a psychotic megalomaniac intent on overtaking the world – and claiming me as his mate in the process – I knew I wasn’t stuck in some dream. No, that would be a much better alternative.
This was real and I was in trouble.
Now I wasn’t a girl prone to exaggeration. Not like some tacky paranormal romance author who trawls the internet looking for hot guys as her muse and then writes a whole book about them, so when I saw Roman Reigns hook his knee on the bed and start to climb his way up my body, I knew something was up.
This—whatever the hell this was, I still wasn’t sure—was going to end. I grabbed the hem of my dress. It took a couple of goes to grab the material because my body didn’t want to do what my brain wanted it to, before I shoved one hand over my hoochie and pressed the other palm onto the centre of his chest, effectively stopping him in his tracks. My fingers splayed over his taut skin and stayed there as though super-glued.
“My God, you are solid muscle, aren’t you?”
His eyes widened momentarily, before a self-satisfied smirk curved those luscious lips of his. “You think I’m handsome.”
Crap, I’d said that out loud. I silently chided my brain. “Of course I think you’re handsome.” Ug. Apparently today was the day my brain was going renegade.
Roman crawled further up my body and planted his massive arms either side of my shoulders. He bent down a little so that his face filled my vision. “I see my brothers have been worshipping your body.”
I tried swallowing, but a large knot seemed to have gotten stuck in my throat, so I settled for saying something sharp and witty, “Worshipping. Yeah.”
“And have they been doing their job well? Have they satisfied you? Are you sated?”
Holy f**king flying pigs in space.
I so wanted to be that cool, collected girl who would lounge back and take all this in stride. I would give my Jimmy Choos, if I had any, to be that girl, but the reality was I was the girl wearing my dress as a belt with my too-large boobs hanging out. I was not the girl this type of stuff happened to. No one had ever asked me if I had been worshipped to satiation. Ever. And especially not by Roman Reigns.
Fortunately, my logical brain chose that time to splutter to life and things snapped into place. Apart from this being one, big, elaborate dream, someone had put these guys up to this and I was on the set of a new Candid Camera episode. That was the only logical play my brain came up with and right at that moment, it sounded just about right to me. I craned my head, looking for lenses.
“Look at me, amica mea. I want to taste you like my brothers have tasted you. I cannot wait a moment longer,” Roman said.
It should be a crime how good this guy smelled. He had a scent that was combined spice and sex, and it was the hardest thing I’d ever done when I locked my elbow and stopped him descending towards me to claim that kiss my lips hungered for. “Stop with the animalas thing. You’re not Sir Richard Attenborough and we’re not on a Discovery set.”
His brows lowered and a sexy little line appeared between his brows. But at least he stopped. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
I pushed him away, slung my other arm over the girls, and managed to wiggle into a sitting position. His scent was all too consuming and my brain was starting to become mush again. I put my hand over my nose to try and cover the scent, but my skin smelled of Eric and Sebastian. Not a good idea. Not a good idea, at all. I had to make my escape and get away from this bed and these men before I engaged in probably the best sex of my life.
Wait—why did I want to get up and leave? “The best sex of my life” sounded pretty damn good. Talk about rebound of the century. I grit my teeth, steeling some determination into the fog of my mind. This was so not the way to rebound from Douchebag Derrick. “You stay where you are. I don’t want to be naked on Candid Camera.”
Roman narrowed his eyes and wordlessly slid a look to each of his brothers.
“She is finding it hard to understand the reality of the situation,” Eric said.
Roman’s face relaxed. “Ahh. I see. I forgot humans don’t know of our culture. I can understand why it would be hard for her.” He stood up and started to undress, “I have an idea that might work. She needs to be enticed a little more to feel comfortable.”
* * *
Oh my god - did I just stop that right excerpt here? Yes, yes I did - Thankfully The Mermen's Captive is live on Amazon and you can find out for yourself what happens next in Ariella's little adventure :-)